71/365: Late Winter Desert

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I miss rain.The sparsity of long winters heldwithin such large space hereis its own kind of drought. Meditation on a wet sidewalksteaming under rain after a hot day,my feet pressed to porous concrete,the plash of drops hitting the rush to the gutter,is pornography:my heart walks a desert.

I am writing one poem every day in 2016, and I am using the hashtag #365poems to document my progress.